


Hope and Other Lies

by Cold_Gold_Heart



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-16
Updated: 2017-10-16
Packaged: 2019-01-18 05:14:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,707
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12381624
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cold_Gold_Heart/pseuds/Cold_Gold_Heart
Summary: No one believes in Nash. Not the coach, not his father and now, not himself. But when Alex enters his life, he thinksmaybe, just maybe, there's hope.





	Hope and Other Lies

**Author's Note:**

> I learned that Nash used to be Alex's student and I **absolutely had to write this**! This is connected to [Deals with Devils](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12303897), but you don't have to read that to understand this.
> 
> Warnings
>   * OOC
>   * light swearing
>   * bad writing in general
> 


"Unfortunately, I don't think you'll be able to improve enough in such a short period of time." Coach inhaled the smoke from the cigarette that always seemed to be hanging in between his index and middle finger. Smoking wasn't allowed on campus, but Nash was slowly learning that no one followed petty things like rules anymore. Coach, who was mostly absent, let his team play rowdily and taught them that discipline wasn't important. He taught them that all of the work that Nash had done wasn't important. Nash's hands curled into fists, as he thought of the words Coach had just said. Coach was supposed to be the one who inspired them to play, not the one who discouraged them! He would understand if Coach was telling him that his abilities were just that lacking, but Nash did have a sense of self-awareness and he knew he was good.

(Just apparently never good enough.)

"Coach," the golden-haired boy said firmly. "Your words will not stop me from trying. I'll get outside help if I have to. I know I can help lift this team up. It would work if you encouraged discipline and—"

"Nonsense, Gold." Although Coach seemed to be mocking him, there was something in his voice that made him sound... sad? What would he have to be sad about? Did he finally regret not helping his team rise up? "Don't drag your teammates into your stupidity. You have to be honest with yourself. There's no way to win. And I know you want to go pro one day, but you have no chance."

"My teammates are talented. They just need practice." It wasn't exactly true, but Nash knew if his teammates who mostly towered over him practiced more, they could become pretty good. "If we do well, we have chances of getting college scholarships."

Coach sighed. His glanced out the window, as if considering something, then looked back at Nash, who's gaze was unwavering. "You really don't understand, do you?"

Then it hit Nash. Coach probably thought that his teammates were hopeless cases. They would never choose to work hard when they could slack off, but... there had to be someone else who was willing to try, right? Nash closed his eyes. Fine, if Coach refused to do anything… "I'll carry the team. Allow me to show you. _I can do it_."

Coach didn't reply. He still had that strange look in his eyes that made him look every bit like the caring and compassionate person he was not. Well, if he wanted to pretend that he cared, it wasn't any of Nash's business. "Thank you, Coach," he mumbled with a nod, then exited the room feeling lost. He sighed. The day was done. He might as well go home.

The sun seemed to gaze mockingly at him from behind the clouds. _Poor boy, you'll never shine this brightly_ _,_ it said, as Nash trudged through the streets. Leaves floated through the air. They all looked as if they were rising, but in the end, they would just fall, coloring the soil with hues of orange. Cars zoomed past him—the noises of their engines were all he could hear. He almost felt as if he were all alone. Almost. Then he reached his door.

It was a little hard for him to believe that behind that door was the place where he lived. It all felt so foreign to him, but his hand instinctively picked up the key in his pocket and unlocked the door. His mom was curled up on the couch. She somehow managed to look tense—even in her sleep. She was clearly shivering, as her arms were pulled close to her chest. Biting his lip, Nash retrieved the jacket lying on his seat on the table and gently laid it on her. Usually, his mom had already cooked at this point, but he could tell she was tired, so he decided to buy something. He opened the door to his room and scrambled through his drawer for the box with some of his savings. He had told himself that he would only use it for emergencies where he wouldn’t be able to go to the bank, but he had put a good amount of money, so it should be okay to take some. He opened the wooden box and—

Empty. He sighed. His mom would’ve never done it so it was probably his father. Nash wondered what that man was doing with it this time. Gambling? Spending it for a date he was having with that Asian man? (Yes, man. Apparently, cheating was alright if you had just discovered you were bi or gay.) He made a note to himself to only keep small amounts of money in the box, then he went to the fridge.

Also empty. Just as he was about to storm out, his father entered. “Hi Junior.”

Nash nodded in response. His father made his way towards the fridge. “Huh, it’s empty. Leslie, we need—"

“Mom’s sleeping.”

“Junior, could you—”

“You’re the one who has my money. Why don’t you do it yourself?” Nash’s voice was full of spite. He had every right to hate the man after all.

“I have work to do.” At least he didn’t try to deny that he stole the money.

Nash scoffed. “Then what are you doing here?”

“Junior, I’m your father.” His father said. “Please trust me.”

“How the fuck am I supposed to do that?” His father had never proved he was trustworthy. How could he trust someone who would steal, gamble and cheat? How could he trust someone who did nothing but hurt his mom? He couldn’t believe how insolent and cruel his father was.

“Your issue is that you don't have money, isn't it?” His father frowned at him, as if he was analyzing every movement. "You would have money if you didn't waste all your time playing basketball."

"Well, you would have money if you didn't waste all of it!" Nash wanted to sound in control, but he couldn't. He was just too angry. What was pathetic was the fact that he wasn't exactly angry about his father not using his money wisely, but the fact that he had belittled the time he had spent playing basketball. He loved basketball. It made him happy when no one else could, how could his father look down on it?

"Junior—"

“I’ll buy the groceries.”

Junior and Senior both turned towards the person speaking, his mom, who stood up from the couch. Although she had just rested, she looked so tired. She slipped the jacket on and picked up a bunch of grocery bags and her handbag, where she presumably kept her money.

“Mom, you should rest—”

“Thanks, Leslie.”

His mom nodded and walked out the door. She was so quiet that it almost seemed like nobody had really left the house, yet Nash also felt that she was gone because the anger in him seemed to growl—it was a monster that was ready to devour without anything to stop it but himself.

So he stopped it himself, by walking out the door, completely ignoring his father. He had no idea where he was going. He followed his feet, which couldn’t seem to stop moving. He just wanted to be far, far away from everything.

Ah, he was in his favorite place. The basketball court. Maybe playing a little would distract him from his thoughts… There was a ball lying on the pavement, so he picked it up and made a few baskets to warm up, before practicing his footwork.

(He hated his father—)

(He needed to practice his ball handling—)

(He hated his father—)

(Focus on your dribbling—)

(How could his mom stand it—)

(That was a nice shot.)

“Hey! Did no one teach you to ask permission to use someone else’s belongings?” He looked behind him to see that the voice belonged to a blonde woman wearing pink-framed glasses.

“Well, I guess it’s okay, since you play well. A little too traditional, but it’s all cool!” She sent a wide grin in his direction. “Why don’t we play together?”

“It’s fine. You can have your ball back.” Nash passed the ball to the woman, who received it easily, and was about to make his way out of the court, when the woman threw the ball at him. He intercepted it immediately. This had happened to him multiple times when he was younger, so he didn’t feel that surprised, but he did feel kind of annoyed.

“C’mon, kid, play with me,” the woman urged. “First to five baskets wins! C’mon. It’s just a really short game.”

“What will I get if I do?” Nash asked childishly. He really wasn’t in the mood for this. He just wanted to be alone. Away and—

“You’ll improve your basketball skills.” The woman’s voice took on a darker tone. “Now, that’s for sure.”

Okay, he thought to himself. I’m not doing this because I’m scared. I’m doing this because I respect the woman. Yes, I respect women unlike father— He sighed. Okay, don’t think of that. “Fine.” Playing a game might distract him from all this bullshit. He passed the ball to her. “Ladies first.”

She grinned and started dribbling the ball as he took a stance. Then, she dashed right past him. He jumped to stop her from taking a shot, but she changed the position of the ball. Nash could tell he was feeling disgruntled since he hadn’t been able to predict her double clutch. They returned to their original position and she passed him the ball. He ran past her, but she caught up. Damn, he really wasn’t in a good mood, was he, if this woman could get past him. He then opted to take a hook shot and managed to score.

When it was her possession, she slowed the game down a little. He wondered if she could sense that he was not calm and was giving him the chance to get his bearings. Well, that was her mistake. He would definitely win this if she underestimated him that way. When she attempted to drive past him, he stole the ball and took a simple jump shot. His second basket.

The woman took the ball and bounced it under his legs. However, he wasn’t surprised and was able to jump to block her. Unfortunately, she took a floater, which went in a high arc above his block.

Nash crossed over to the right and faked a shot. The woman took the bait, which allowed him to run past her and score.

She tried to drive past him again, but he managed to steal the ball and take a shot. One more point, and the game would be over.

She successfully took a shot by doing another double clutch lay-up. When it was his turn, he went for the safest shot. Taking advantage of his height, he dunked the ball. The net swished as the ball bounced on the floor.

However, he wasn’t satisfied with his win. He remembered how she seemed to slow down during her second possession. “You weren’t trying, were you?”

“Sorry!” The woman laughed. “I just… I haven’t played in a long time, so I had to warm up a little.”

“Fine.” Nash had to admit that he was pissed. He hated not being taken seriously. No one ever took him seriously when it came to basketball. Not his teammates, not his coach…

And now this random stranger.

“I’m Alexandra Garcia.” The woman extended her hand. “Call me ‘Alex’.”

Nash shook her hand. The name sounded familiar, but he didn’t know why. “Nash.”

She released his hand. “How good are you at math?”

“…Bad?”

“Do you think you can keep track of the points if we play another game? First to 50 baskets?” Alex was grinning again. He was pretty sure that grin had lead men and women alike to do evil things, despite how good-natured the woman seemed. He was pretty sure he should be going home, but he just didn’t.

(He didn’t want to see ___ ______.)

“Okay. One more game.”

And that became two games, then three.

“Let’s play again tomorrow!” Alex said, with that semi-evil grin.

“Sure?” Nash couldn’t understand why the woman wanted to play against him. She looked like someone who was looking for a challenge, and she wouldn’t find it in Nash, who had lost all the games after their first one, although he only lost by one or two points.

“If you’re wondering, it’s because you’re serious about basketball.” Alex’s grin faded away and was replaced by a serious look. “I admire you for that.”

 _Damn_. Now there was no way he wasn’t coming back. Alex was the first person in a long time to appreciate his playing. “Thanks. Guess I’ll see you.”

* * *

 "You're a former WNBA player, huh?" Nash said casually. He and Alex had been meeting up every day for almost a month, but he had only bothered to search her name to find out why she seemed so familiar recently. He probably shouldn't have been surprised. She really was a good player. 

"Took you long enough to figure that out," she replied, just as casually.

"How did you become a pro?" He asked.

Apparently, she could sense that there was something serious in his voice because she gently put the ball down. (And the woman rarely did anything gently.) "You want to become a pro, don't you?" She grinned. It wasn't her semi-evil grin, but a genuine one—a grin that didn't sparkle, but was full of light. "You can definitely do it."

Nash blinked. Was someone actually telling him that? In all the years of his life (which he would admit, wasn't much), no one had ever told he could do it. "Thanks..."

"To become a pro, you honestly just have to keep doing what you're doing." Alex's expression was thoughtful and she wasn't looking at him, which meant that she was really considering what he said. "You're talented, hard-working and have a lot of determination. That will pave the path to going pro."

The two were silent for a while, until Alex spoke up. "Well, you won't become a pro if you don't keep on practicing! I have something new to teach you! Let's get started."

"Yes!" And he ran after her.

* * *

Times change, of course.

* * *

It was his last chance, and he missed it. They hadn't even reached the quarterfinals and there he was. He had lost. Now, he would never have a chance of being recruited. No one would ever notice his school, notice him. He was so shaken up that he didn't even notice that Alex was talking to him until she tapped him on his shoulder. 

"Basketball is a team effort," she said, with a softness her voice usually didn't have. "It's not your fault that you lost—"

"This... this was my last chance!" He yelled. "And I missed the shot! The final shot! If I had scored..."

"You also would've won if your teammates didn't miss so many shots." The softness in her voice gradually faded away with each word. "Don't shoulder the loss."

"That..." _That doesn't stop me from being a loser_. "That's true... Sorry, Alex." He gave her a smile. Alex grinned back at him.

"You did a great job, Nash." Alex patted him on the head. It was her most motherly gesture. "I'm so proud of my student."

_Proud of what? Proud that I'll never amount to anything? Proud that Coach was right and that I don't have a chance? You lied, Alex. You lied. You gave me hope even though there's none. I thought I could do it, but I couldn't..._

"Thanks." They were silent for a while until Nash said that he had to go. His father and his mom were waiting for him.

(They weren't. All that was waiting for him was a coldness that would never leave him.)

* * *

So, he won't give those monkeys false hope. They should just quit. It will never amount to anything. It's true because he knows. 

Basketball is worthless. Basketball will never make you happy. Basketball is harsh, cruel...

No one deserves it.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Did I decide to name Nash's mom "Leslie" just because of Lisa Leslie? Yeah. I just did. Also, _please_ , _please_ tell me if the characters are too out of character. Nash is around fifteen or sixteen here, but upon a second inspection, it seems like his personality changes too dramatically in 2-3 years. (Maybe I should just blame it on Belial Eye reasons. Y'know double personality, blah... Wait. That sounds familiar) Is the pacing too fast? Too slow? How bad was the one-on-one? (Honestly, I'm disappointed with the way I wrote it because the game I wrote was too realistic for KnB.) Your criticism would be very helpful. I apologize for any mistakes and thank you for reading this shitty, but hopefully not too shitty fic.


End file.
